


Greenhouses, Cats and Crystal Balls

by Mystradigans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Out of character probably, Slow Burn, anyways i tried to get their voices but its hard, break ups, pomona is the huffliest puff to ever hufflepuff, rosmerta owns a gay bar, she's a trans transfiguration professor hahahaha puns, sometime between the marauders graduating and lily and james being murdered, theyre teachers so they dont talk to eachother like they talk to harry, trans minerva mcgonagall, we're set in the first wizarding war btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24535027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystradigans/pseuds/Mystradigans
Summary: Minerva is struck by an intriguing new Divination teacher who has just stated at Hogwarts. But has the person she really needs been under her nose all along?Also, somehow having read these books several times I never noticed Sybill is spelled with two 'L's??? that's wild
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall/Pomona Sprout, Minerva McGonagall/Sybill Trelawney, minerva/pomena endgame
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for and only for the amazing hosts of the Gayly Prophet podcast, who gave me many of the treasured headcannons in here. Anyone else reading this: please read the fic and, if you like it, check out the Gayly Prophet wherever you get your podcasts xxxxxx

It was back-to-Hogwarts day for the staff- those of them who had enough of a life to live away from Hogwarts in the holidays anyway. Minerva would rather drink squid-infected water from the Black Lake than live at her workplace year-round, she had spent the summer touring Germany and Denmark with some friends from her school days, meeting with international Order members on the down-low because she could never entirely escape her responsibilities. She’d returned last night, wanting to break the journey up by stopping at Pomona’s so they could head to Hogwarts together. Pomona had a bungalow in Lincolnshire, with a garden overrun by brightly coloured plants that weren’t useful enough to be grown at Hogwarts but that she loved and _had_ to have. Minerva had picked her up some singing cactus seeds in Germany to add to her collection, as a thanks for letting her stop off here.

The door creaked and Pomona came into the sitting room, vanishing the bedding she’d put on the couch for Minerva with a quick flourish of her wand. “The Portkey’s almost ready, are you packed up?” she asked. Minerva nodded, waving her bottomless purse containing everything she owned, and a few of Pomona’s possessions that her friend didn’t want to carry as well.

“Righteo” Pomona smiled and the two of them grabbed the beer bottle that would take them to a field just outside Hogwarts. The bottle grew hot- and off they went.

When Minerva opened her eyes, after the spinning had stopped, Pomona was wheezing beside her. “Fucking- Merlin, that was rough” she groaned, and Minerva rubbed her back while she regained her bearings. “Why does every mode of magical transportation make me travelsick? Next time- Muggle train and then hike the rest of the way”.

Eventually, she straightened up and they headed into the grounds. “Are we getting any new staff this year?” Minerva mused. “Apart from Defence Against the Dark Arts obviously.”

“Don’t think so” her friend replied. “Horace has been hinting at leaving for years, but he wants Lily Evans to replace him and obviously Albus wants her for the war effort, so I think he’ll have… persuaded Horace to stay”

She gave Minerva a meaningful look to communicate what Minerva was already thinking: that Albus would have waved some 11-year-old with influential parents in front of him to convince him to stay for the child’s first year. It was a sinister, but effective, tactic, which Minerva was coming to realise was a common theme in Albus’ leadership.

“And of course, Abe retired, but Albus said that he won’t hire a new Divination teacher because he thinks it’s all ridiculous” Pomona continued.

“He’s absolutely right” said Minerva with a smirk.

Pomona shrugged. “I don’t know. Abe was maybe a bit silly, but I met a wonderful palm reader in a bar once, and they told me-“

She stopped suddenly, catching sight of the clock in the tower. “We’re already late, c’mon let’s go”

They hurried into the castle and speed-walked to the Great Hall, where the rest of the staff were already gathered.

“Minerva, Pomena” Albus smiled. “How kind of you to join us”

“Sorry we’re late, we-um, I got portkey-sick” Pomena explained. She was still a little scared of Albus: it was only her second year as a teacher, and she didn’t see him as often as Minerva did since she wasn’t a head of house.

“Oh no” Albus replied, still smiling his cryptic smile. “I am being genuine. It’s lovely to have you back. I was just introducing this year’s newest staff members. The witch talking to Argus and Lenny is Professor Joyce Wiggins of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and the witch on the far left with the large glasses is Sybill Trelawny of Divination.”

Minerva barely spared Professor Wiggins a glance, knowing that she’d only be here for a year because of the curse, and turned her attention to Sybill Trelawny. She was confused as to why Albus had hired her when he didn’t believe in Divination, but that doubt melted away the longer that she looked at Sybill. She was _hot,_ exactly Minerva’s type in women. Tall and willowy, with wide eyes beneath huge, cat-eye glasses and curly hair down to her waist. Minerva stared at her for a moment, before catching Pomena’s eyes and waggling her eyebrows in Sybill’s direction. She knew that Pomena was gay, they’d even been to bars together, but her colleague always evaded about which women she was attracted to. Minerva would point out girls in bars, and Pomena would shrug and say _“Maybe. She looks sweet,”_ but would never ask them to dance or buy them drinks. Perhaps it was internalised homophobia, or maybe Pomena was just shy.

Minerva didn’t get a chance to speak to Sybill at the staff meeting, and then they all got caught up in the start-of-term rush, and it turned out Sybill preferred to eat meals in the Divination tower, and so by the weekend, when she was helping Pomena to repot some acid-shooting rosebushes that the Order was currently experimenting with, she hadn’t still hadn’t had a chance to speak to Sybill.

“Just go to the tower and talk to her” Pomena shrugged. “Say you want to introduce yourself. If you ask me, it’s weird that she hasn’t socialised with the staff.”

Minerva was surprised at her friend’s disinterested tone; Pomena usually worried about whether people felt included and would often check in with students who were quiet in class to ask whether they were nervous, or struggling to make friends.

She glanced up at Pomona, who was repotting a particularly vicious seedling with a face of grim determination. “Are you alright, Pomona? You seem… not quite yourself”

“Just tired. The war, and first week of term, and… yep. Genuinely though, you should go and speak to Trelawny. You never know how long you’ve got, in times like these.”

She seemed sad. Minerva wondered whether she had someone she loved, whether she wished that she did, whether she had lost someone. Her heart ached in sympathy for her brave, wonderful friend at the thought. Pomena was right, of course- you never know how long you have. She should talk to Sybill.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for alcohol consumption towards the end of the chapter xx  
> also I'm really sorry that chapters 2 and 3 are so grossly short, it just worked better in terms of transitions to break them up there, but I know it's annoying to read

Minerva stared at her reflection in the mirror as it morphed from tabby cat to tall, smartly-dressed woman. She tried to practice her transformation as often as possible to keep her body used to it, otherwise it became harder to do it and she felt less comfortable in her cat body. She had less use for her other form now that she’d transitioned; initially, she’d become an animagi as a way to escape her body when her dysphoria was bad, but after years spent inventing new spells to support her physical transition, dysphoria rarely hit nowadays. She mainly became a cat now to eavesdrop here and there, and to impress her students on their first Transfiguration lesson. And, as she was doing now, to ease her nerves before going on a date with Sybill Trelawny.

At least, she thought it was a date. Sybill had been Very Intense, in her room filled with scented candles, twinkling crystal balls and ornate teacups. She’d fixed her wide eyes on Minerva’s, and kissed her hand when Minerva offered it to shake, and Minerva had felt slightly dizzy. It was definitely a queer person’s room though, no heterosexual could own that many lava lamps, so Minerva had felt slightly more confident in introducing herself and casually asking if Sybill would be interested in getting a drink sometime.

“At _Rosmerta’s,_ perhaps” she’d said, stressing the name to make it clear that she was referring to Hogsmead’s notorious gay bar and to signal for Sybill to understand all it implied.

Sybill had leaned very, very close to her and said, in a husky yet slightly… ominous voice? “Yes, Minerva, I shall meet you here at 8 this eve.”

Normally Minerva might be put off by this eccentricity, but Sybill was so gorgeous that she found she didn’t care. She felt quite willing to dive headfirst into Sybill’s bizarre, romantic, dreamworld- and after all, she herself could turn into a cat and taught children how to defy Muggle physics, so it wasn’t as if she was ordinary either. So here she was, at 7:45, changing from cat to human-in-green-robes to human-in-red-robes to cat again. Eventually, she settled on wine-red robes with silver detailing and began the steep climb to the Divination tower. Sybill met her halfway up the stairs, pressed up against the wall in a translucent blue caftan, hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“Shall we?” Sybill asked, and Minerva flushed, then offered her arm for Sybill to take.

When they got to Rosmerta’s, which was on the floor above The Three Broomsticks and could only be accessed through a seemingly ordinary cleaning closet with a false back, the place was just beginning to fill up. Minerva found them a booth tucked away from the dance floor and ordered them both drinks.

“It’s really nice to meet you” she said, nervously, and sipped her drink in the hope that it would give her some confidence. “I saw you on that first day and thought… wow, she’s stunning”

Sybill smiled widely at that. “You’re not so bad yourself. And I’ve heard much about you, and Seen much more”

Minerva didn’t particularly want to have to talk about Sybill ‘Seeing’ things, she didn’t believe in Divination and she wasn’t about to start, so she asked instead about Sybill’s family and where she’d lived and worked before coming to Hogwarts. Sybill, it turned out, had been a freelance palm reader for the past few years, and had travelled the world to do so. Minerva’s backstory was rather dull in comparison; she’d been an academic specialising in bodily transfiguration in the years after Hogwarts, inventing spells and self-publishing two mildly received books on the subject before the teaching job became available. She felt a bit sad after talking about the books, she’d always hoped they would do better one day. She stirred her drink with her draw in silence for a moment.

Then, Sybill said, “Come, let’s dance,” and before Minerva could protest, they were on the dance floor.

It was a blur from there. They danced, to that song Pomena liked about roses, and took shots and danced some more. At about midnight, Sirius Black strutted in, and Minerva had to remind herself that he was allowed to be here now that he’d graduated, it wasn’t like the old days when he’d sneak in accompanied by Remus or Marlene, and Pomena or herself would have to send them home. He caught her eye as she was pressed up against Sybill on the dance floor and waggled his eyebrows. She shot him a don’t-you-dare look, which was hard to manage given her level of tipsiness, and he sighed and went to antagonise someone else. Minerva took another shot.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for hangovers and irresponsible decision making, also mentions of sex but know actual sex bc im incredibly awkward at writing lesbian sex scenes for a grown up, sexually active lesbian?? lol like you'd think i'd be able to do it by now but nooo

When she awoke the next morning, the smell hit her first. A bizarre mixture of spices, florals and wax, which was not helping the pounding of her head. She eased her eyes open and realised immediately where she must be: Sybill’s bedroom, in the Divination tower. And she was naked. Fantastic. Resisting the urge to transform into a cat and make a run for it, she managed to summon a hangover tonic from her room, hoping that no one would notice it flying through the corridors and put two and two together. She took some tonic and began to feel better immediately.

She couldn’t see Sybill, but she could hear the shower going, and after a few minutes Sybill emerged, wearing a towel.

“Morning,” she said, awkwardly offering her the hangover lotion. “I can’t remember last night… did we...?”

“I can’t remember either. And no, thank you dear, I prefer to use natural remedies” Sybill said with raised eyebrows.

“Right… well… I have work to be doing so…”

“Yes, me too” Sybill cleared her throat. “I’ll see you soon. Perhaps Monday, after classes? If you want to, that is.”

Minerva thought it over for a second. “Yes, I do, yes that sounds good. Ok, well…”

She kissed Sybill on the cheek before she had time to think herself out of it, and hurried off to the Gryffindor Tower, unsure what to think really.

For the next couple of weeks, the pair seemed to coincidentally bump into each other quite a lot. Said bumping into each other usually ended in snogging at the least exciting, and eating Sybill out across the teacher’s desk in her empty classroom at the most. But no talking, apart from the occasional necessary “can I...?” or “fuck, yes”. Minerva hadn’t spoken to anyone else about it either. Pomona hadn’t asked, which made Minerva think that perhaps their working relationship was not as close as she’d thought it was, and Albus hadn’t either- though she was sure he must know. He knew everything, after all.

One evening, as she was marking some fourth year’s essays at her desk, she received a note, carried by a jet-black owl, which read:

“Meet me, astronomy tower, now. -S”.

She grinned and took a moment to adjust her hair and apply perfume, then headed to the tower.

Sybill was waiting on a pile of blankets spread out across the floor, with candles lighting the area around them.

“Come” she said, patting the space beside her. “Let’s watch the stars.”

Minerva lay down next to her, and looked up. They were beautiful.

“That’s Cassiopeia” Sybill murmured, pointing at a faint constellation directly above their heads. “The lady in the chair. Trapped in the sky as a punishment by Poseidon. She brings vanity and anger and suffering, so much sufferi-“

Minerva grabbed her face and kissed her. They kissed more slowly, more tenderly than they had before, pressing their bodies together, their hands in each other’s hair, shrugging off their robes to grind on each other’s thighs, kissing every inch of skin they could reach.

After they’d made love, they did not rush back to their rooms, or get ready to teach a class, or hastily pull their robes back on as they usually did. Instead, they lay, Minerva’s head on Sybill’s shoulder, and watched the stars.

Sybill pointed at a speck in the distance. “That’s Venus, between those two treetops. She’s in retrograde at the moment. This only happens once every 19 months, but when it does-“

Minerva lets Sybill’s voice fade to background noise, not taking in the words but allowing the intonations to provide a calming backdrop as she gazed at the beautiful sky. She could understand the appeal of this part of Divination, she decided. The stars were far-reaching and spectacular, the astronomy tower perfectly positioned to provide them with the best view, and Sybill’s warm shoulder pressing against her.

Eventually, Sybill fell silent, and Minerva took the opportunity to ask the question that had come into her mind as they lay there. “I know it’s a bit… twee” she began, “but what are we? Are you interested in a relationship, or is this just sexual?”

Sybill smiled down at her. “With me, it is never ‘just sexual’.”

“I see…” Minerva said, wishing Sybill would just speak directly for once. “So… you would like to be in a relationship with me?”

“Are you asking?”

“Yes.”

“Then _yes”_ Sybill murmured, and Minerva stared at the curls in her hair and hoped she was following the conversation properly.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for super unhealthy relationship dynamic!!! you deserve better than this!!!

Dating Sybill was just as addictive and dizzying as sleeping with Sybill had been. Minerva found herself basically living in the Divination tower, leaving only to teach classes and show up to the occasional mealtime to avoid rousing suspicion. Realistically, she was aware that suspicion had, most likely, already been roused, and that it was far too late to un-rouse it. Albus knew everything anyway, Pomona _must_ have figured it out; even Lenny, the head of Ravenclaw who was generally more interested in bowtruckles than people, had asked her about it.

Their days were filled with tarot-readings between classes and fierce arguments over the validity of crystal balls, and their nights were filled with stargazing, sex, and drinks at Rosmerta’s. Minerva hardly spoke to anyone other than Sybill and her students. It was a few weeks into the relationship that the acid-shooting rosebushes needed pruning and she had an excuse to catch up with Pomona.

Her friend didn’t ask her about Sybill, and Minerva was slightly relieved to talk about something else. They discussed the war effort, and how strange it was at Hogwarts without Potter, Black, Evans and Lupin running the school, and whether acid-shooting rosebushes would have any effect on Tom Riddle. Pomona chattered about her new first-years and what a lovely group they were, and Minerva thought proudly of what an excellent Head of Hufflepuff her friend would be when Nancy Figg, the elderly Muggle-studies teacher, eventually retired.

Pruning rosebushes in full protective gear was exhausting, especially when they kept trying to fight back and wrestle with you. After they were done, Minerva and Pomona slumped against the greenhouse walls, breathless and sweaty, and summoned some iced pumpkin juice from Pomona’s secret minifridge. They ‘cheers’ed, clinking their bottles together and Minerva felt a sudden urge to hug Pomona and never let her go, despite how sweaty they were. She must have missed Pomona more than she’d realised during over the last few weeks of Sybill-filled chaos. They met eyes for a second and Minerva beamed at her friend, unsure how else to convey the affection that had washed over her. Pomona smiled back, her cheeks dimpling and her eyes creasing delightfully.

Minerva looked away; suddenly she was too hot and too aware of her clothes sticking to her and the warmth of Pomona’s arm pressed against hers. She took a gulp of her juice and pulled herself to her feet.

She walked back to Sybill’s room on automatic, her mind unable to string together thoughts. She was feeling… something, and it was overwhelming, but she couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative. It was as if her affection, her _love_ for Pomona had taken hold of her and for a moment she’d wanted desperately to kiss her. But she wasn’t attracted to her friend, was she? She _loved_ her, that was something she’d never really thought about or acknowledged until today, but the rush of affection she’d felt upon seeing her again, the way that Pomona had been there for her as a colleague and friend over the last two years, the fact that she would do pretty much anything for her friend confirmed that.

But it wasn’t romantic love, surely. She hadn’t met Pomona and immediately wanted to date her, as she had Sybill. Sure, she’d been impressed by Pomona’s unfailing kindness, work ethic and willingness to stand up for what she believed in from the start, and had gone out of her way to become acquainted with the other witch, but everyone Pomona encountered must feel the same. Pomona was one of those wonderful, open-hearted people who go out of their way to be approachable, to spread joy to others. Minerva couldn’t imagine anybody not being awed by her.

When she stumbled up the Divination tower stairs, still slightly dazed, Sybill met her at the door.

“Decided to come back? I’m honoured” she said flatly, and then turned on her heel and flounced into her office. Minerva followed her reluctantly, confused and not in the mood for dramatics. Sybill was staring intently into a crystal ball, moving her lips without making a sound.

“Hello Sybill” Minerva tried, tilting her head to look at her lover. Sybill merely raised her eyebrows and continued to mouth words, which irritated Minerva so she left the room.

From her office, Sybill called, “Did you have a nice time with Sprout? Did you even think about me, for the whole three hours you were with her?”

Minerva stormed back into the office. “Yes, I did actually- she’s my friend. And no, I didn’t think about you Sybill, we were working on something very important. I’ve spent all my time with you for weeks and weeks, I think I deserve an afternoon off. I’m allowed to have a life outside of you.”

“Spare me that!” Sybill shrieked, tears gathering in her eyes. “What work were you doing then, if it was so important?”

“I told you Sybill, you’re not allowed to know!” Minerva was yelling too now. “We can’t trust you yet and it’s top secret information”

“Why can’t you trust me? I’m your girlfriend! Why does nobody trust me?” Sybill was really crying now, and sniffling pathetically. “I made a prophecy, Minerva, an important one, and Albus took it away from me and hid it, and he won’t-won’t t-tell me what I said!”

She was really devastated; Minerva could see that. She could understand why, as well. She didn’t know anything about an important prophecy, but if Sybill had made one, one that was convincing and important enough for Albus to take it seriously, that would be a game-changer in the much-doubted and declining role of divination in wizarding society. It would be as significant as Xenophilius Lovegood actually finding evidence for one of his bizarre claims: the wizarding world would have to sit up and take notice.

That wasn’t to say that Minerva believed that Sybill had made this prophecy, necessarily. The McGonagall family had roots in the Scottish Enlightenment movement, and as such she had been raised to believe only in magical disciplines that were verifiable and falsifiable. But at the same time, she knew that Albus manipulated people, lied to them and hid things from them. She didn’t doubt that he would do the same to Sybill.

So she just nodded, sadly. “Yes. Albus does that. If it helps… I’m sure he has his reasons. It’ll be for the greater good. That’s why I can’t tell you what Pomona and I are working on, not that I should need to. It’s for the greater good.”

And with that, she headed silently back to the Gryffindor tower, leaving Sybill sitting grief-stricken in her office.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw alcohol consumption again!! also every muggle 70s musician is a witch so and most of them are slytherins so there

They managed to patch things up after the argument. Nobody really apologised, and Minerva was still slightly bitter about that, but Sybill had turned up in Minerva’s office, tears running down her face and Minerva had embraced her without thinking about it. They’d fallen back into their old routine, seeing each other constantly and having plenty of sex, but were bickering over everything- probably because Minerva was still furious about how unreasonably Sybill had acted. If Sybill left a candle burning, Minerva would rage about her irresponsibility, they would disagree about what to eat. After a few weeks of this, an owl carrying a note appeared outside Minerva’s office after the last class of the day.

She let the owl in hastily, shutting the window behind her as it was pouring with rain. She detached the slightly soggy note from the owl’s foot, and let he bird back out again.

“Come to the black lake” the note read. “We need to talk.”

Minerva sighed, slightly sick of the melodramatic spectacles Sybill created every 5 minutes. But she went to the black lake, pulling on a thick, water-repelling cloak to protect herself from the rain. Sybill was waiting for her when she got there, gazing pensively into the water.

“Minerva” she said.

“Sybill.” Minerva replied.

They faced each other, the rain pouring down around them. Sybill was not wearing any weather-protecting spells; her curly hair was matted to her face and her eyeline was streaming. Minerva felt a twinge of annoyance, sure that Sybill had done this on purpose to make herself look the part.

“We need to break up,” Sybill said, her voice wobbling slightly. Minerva’s annoyance melted into sympathy, and she took Sybill’s freezing cold hands into her own.

“Are you sure?” she asked, even though she’d half expected it.

Sybill nodded sadly. “I’ve read your palms, and your tea-leaves and tarot cards hundreds of times and I can’t escape the facts. You’re not meant to be with me. You love somebody else”

That stung. Minerva looked at her incredulously. “You’re breaking up with me because of tarot? Is this a joke?”

“I knew you’d say that!” Sybill shrieked, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’ve never taken what I do seriously! You think I’m a fraud!”

“Not a fraud, I just… Sybill, Divination is not reliable! It’s a beautiful aesthetic, and it’s interesting, but you can’t prove that it’s _real!”_

“What you do isn’t real!” Sybill accused. “Your magic doesn’t make any more sense than mine does! Do you have any idea how hard it is to See things and have nobody believe you? Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Minerva sighed. “I don’t” she admitted. “I… I’m sorry that you feel that way. I think-“ oh Merlin, now she was choking up- “I think maybe this relationship isn’t healthy for either of us. I’m sorry.”

“Go to hell” Sybill spat, and turned on her heel. Minerva watched her storm away, and then sighed and headed back to the castle. This felt horrible, but she knew it was for the best. She wished Sybill would have handled it like an adult- though perhaps Sybill was wishing the same about her.

Pomona was exactly the kind of friend you wanted when you were going through a break-up. When Minerva turned up in her office, dejected and teary-eyed, Pomona had put the kettle on and located a biscuit tin before Minerva had even explained what had happened. She listened patiently when Minerva needed to have a cry about how stupid she’d been, or to rant about Sybill, or to ask what she’d done wrong again and again. After a few days of this, however, Pomona sat up wearily.

“Minerva, this isn’t helping you anymore. You need to do something fun, remind yourself that you still can. What about Rosmerta’s?”

Minerva decided she needed a couple of drinks at Hogwarts to give her the motivation to go into Hogsmeade, so they drank Firewhisky in Pomona’s room and decided to play around with makeup and hair transfiguration spells. Minerva rarely used these spells, wanting to look professional and unbothered about following trends, but she enjoyed giving Pomona the outlandish styles Sirius Black could be seen sporting nowadays. Pomona especially suited a David-Bowie-style lightning bolt across her face, which made them both clutch their stomachs laughing. Pomona had amazing hair, thick and curly and sweet-smelling, and it looked even thicker when Minerva made it puff out like Dolly Parton’s.

Transfiguration wasn’t Pomona’s speciality, but she was pretty good at it, only struggling on the finer details like eyeliner. She ended up doing the eyeliner by hand- Minerva had never had makeup applied manually to her face before, and it tickled, so she kept erupting into giggles which meant Pomona had to reapply the same part again and again. The result of this was that they were both merry in every sense of the word by the time they descended on Rosmerta’s, caked in makeup and sporting ridiculous hairdos.

It was exactly what Minerva needed. She’d been taking everything very seriously recently: her relationship, her breakup, her ego, and it was good to lose her inhibitions for a night and dance with Pomona without caring who saw or what she looked like. They stayed until closing time, and then staggered out of the bar arm-in-arm, singing at the top of their lungs.

When they got back to the castle, they paused at the point where they would have to head back to their respective bedrooms. Minerva reeeaally didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay, and have more fun! Maybe another drinkey! But Pomona said they had to.

“Do you think that helped?” Pomona asked, trying to be quiet, but a bit too drunk to manage entirely.

Helped what? Minerva wondered. But Pomononomona couldn’t know she’d forgotten, so she just said “mmm-hmm,” and opened her arms to give Pomona a hug. Pomona loooooved hugs. She loooooved Pomona. They should totally hug. Pomona hugged her back, and her face was all close and pretty colours and her hair was big and fluffy and Minerva should totally kiss her.

She grabbed Pomona’s cute face and kissed her and it was niiiiiiceeee, it was maybe the nicest kiss Minerva had ever had, and she wanted another one and then she wanted sex and more kisses and whyyyyy was Pomona pulling away from her?

“Minerva, you’re drunk.” Pomona said, sharply, sounding like a sober person again. Was Pomona angry? Everything was going wrong! “Go to bed.”

And with that, Pomona turned and stormed away, and Minerva was left on the brink of tears in the corridor, feeling like the worst friend in the world.


	6. 6

They didn’t talk about the kiss. Not for weeks, not for months. Minerva pretended she didn’t remember, to avoid her own mortification, and Pomona didn’t bring it up. She’d kissed Pomona out of nowhere, and her friend had pushed her away, had even been angry with her. She’d risked messing up their friendship, ruined a great night, and worst of all she seemed to have awakened something within her that really, really fancied Pomona.

Luckily, Pomona seemed happy to continue being friends with her. The rosebushes had been attacked by an infestation of flobberworms, which required Lenny’s help to recover from. He showed them how to coax the creatures out of the leaves with cabbage- a much better offering- and how, if one of them used the cabbage to distract them and the other eased them into a carrier box, they could deliver them to Lenny without causing the flobberworms distress. Once Lenny left though, Minerva realised that the more time she spent alone with Pomona tending to the plants, the more impossible it became to ignore her attraction to her. Pomona’s face would light up whenever a rosebush grew taller; she would sing to the plants quietly, forgetting that Minerva had cat-like hearing; she would tuck a strand of curly hair behind her ear to keep it out of her eyes and it would fall down again; she would chew her lips nervously when she spotted a flobberworm-sized bite on a leaf.

In short, everything she did was adorable and sexy and wonderful, and Minerva wondered how she’d never realised this before.

Pomona had made herself perfectly clear that night after Rosmerta’s though. The way she’d pushed Minerva off of her, the anger in her voice, meant that she would never like Minerva back. No, the sooner she got over this crush and went back to thinking of Pomona purely as a friend, the better.

Merlin, it was hard though. Pomona seemed to become more radiant as the acid-spitting rosebushes became fuller, and by the time the buds started to open into flowers, she was practically glowing. Her hair was shiny and full, her cheeks flushed, her laugh loud and infectious. Minerva would slip into daydreams while watching her friend garden, thinking about what a fantastic couple they would make, fantasising about date nights and staying up all night gossiping about the other teachers; or taking holidays together and seeing everything the world had to offer; growing old together and adopting cats and having an allotment or… whatever old people do.

It felt entirely different to her crush on Sybill: the previous had been sudden and almost entirely sexual; she’d certainly never thought about the future or even got to know much about Sybill before diving into a relationship with her. That wasn’t to say that her attraction to Pomona wasn’t sexual- she had her fair share of sexy fantasies about the other witch as well, inappropriate though they may be- but she’d known Pomona for two years now, and her attraction seemed to be rooted in something much deeper. Pomona didn’t know that though, Pomona had rejected a drunken kiss, but she might not have understood the sentiment behind it, understood that Minerva really liked, and maybe even loved her. If Minerva had any slim chance with the other witch, it would be that Pomona didn’t want to hook up with her that night but might, maybe, if Minerva dared to hope, be more open to a proper relationship. She was clinging on to that thread of hope, terrified to ask Pomona in case the answer was no, but unable to let go of it while it was still a possibility.

Ugh. She was going to have to tell her, wasn’t she?

Minerva decided to talk to Pomona about how she felt the next time they worked together in the greenhouse. The rosebushes were huge now, and covered in beautiful red flowers. Most importantly, they were firing stun-inducing acid at anyone who entered the room, meaning that Minerva and Pomona had to wear full hazmat suits and visors to work on them and keep the plants undercover the rest of the time. Minerva figured that at least she’d be working while she told Pomona, and so wouldn’t have to make eye contact while the other witch rejected her. Again.

The next time they tended the rosebushes together was on a chilly Saturday morning. Minerva spent the first 20 minutes of the session making small-talk and trying to muster up the courage to tell her.

Finally, looking firmly at the bush she was pruning and nowhere near Pomona, she managed to say, “Uh. So, I need to tell you something.

“Are you ok? You’re not ill, are you? Oh Merlin, has anyone else died?”

“No, no… um, please don’t speak, just let me tell you” Minerva implored, squeezing her clippers hard. “I… um, think, well, for a few months now it’s come into my awareness that I have romantic feelings for you, Pomona.”

There was a pause. A long pause. Minerva cleared her throat and continued.

“Obviously, I understand if you don’t feel the same way. We can be friends, I’ll… you know, get over it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, I-“

“But I’m not your type.” Pomona stated, almost calmly. Minerva allowed herself to glance up, and saw that Pomona had stopped working and was sitting on the floor, besides her rosebush, staring right at her.

“What? Why aren’t you… what’s my type?”

Pomona shrugged. “Tall, slim, feminine, mysterious”

Minerva was about to object when she realised that yes, that pretty much summed up her dating (and hook-up) record and was fairly close to how she’d have described her type if asked 6 months ago. So why did it all feel so _wrong_ now that Pomena was looking at her like she was furiously trying to control… anger? Sadness? Happiness? An emotion, anyway: Minerva could tell from her tight lips and furrowed brow.

“You’re not-” Minerva began, and then asked herself what she was going to say. Short? Fat? Frank? Butch? Pomena was all of these things, and she loved her for all of them. Why had she ever assumed she wasn’t attracted to these features? Why did it only seem so wrong now?

She started again. “I’m serious, Pomona. Whatever I thought my type was, I like you more than I’ve liked anyone else before. I want to be your girlfriend, or partner, or whatever you want. What do I need to do to prove myself?”

To Minerva’s horror, Pomona began to cry. She couldn’t take her visor off to wipe her tears, so they just ran down her face.

“Are you sure?” Pomona sobbed.

“Yes. Is that really so terrible? I promise nothing will change unless you want it to.”

“I want it to” said Pomona. “I feel the same, I have since I met you. But… are you definitely sure?”

Minerva thought a moment, then stood up and threw the tarpaulin cover over the acid-spitting rosebushes. “Take the mask off and kiss me,” she suggested, pulling off her own mask. “And I’ll show you exactly how sure I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading if you did!! now go check out the Gayly Prophet podcast (also Witch Please podcast if for whatever reason you haven't heard that one).


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